The Ugly One

Looking in the mirror was never difficult for me. In fact, I was fascinated with my face. I would stare at myself for hours in the window during dinner. My family at first I saw something outside in the darkness, but when they discovered I was looking at myself like some psychotic bird that doesn’t realize the thing staring back is itself, I no longer could sit on that side of the table. I now realize that I was staring in the same way a person stares at a circus freak.

As a child I just looked odd. As an adult, I’m homely. Bulbous nose, splotchy pale skin, occasional acne, and hair that refuses to be styled any differently than it was when I was five make up the core of my features. My eyes are a muddled mix of green and hazel and I stand at a mediocre 5’10” or so, tall enough to be tallish, but not tall enough that my height becomes an admirable trait. Just average enough that my lack of attractiveness is at eye level with the rest of the world.

I used to think that my hair was a stand out trait that people would look at and say “Wow, what beautiful hair.” It is red, soft, thick and I’ll have it until I’m ninety. Sadly, hair isn’t a pro trait, only an anti trait. What I mean by that is hair is used to remove someone from consideration but someone doesn’t come into consideration because of hair quality. So the fact I have nice hair doesn’t mean much. Also, it isn’t dark enough to be considered a strong punctuation mark on my image. It is a fading red, slowly turning blondish which with my pale skin makes me look like I am fading out of existence.

I also lack a muscular physique. That would at least be another element like height that I could use to overcome my dismal visage. People would say, “he may be ugly, but he is strong and muscular.” Though it wouldn’t mesh well with my personality. That is the other issue at hand, personality. A person with a great personality often is able to overcome physical shortcomings. A strong wit, charm, extroverted ways can go a long way. I don’t have any of that. I’m a shy person by nature. I am not funny, I don’t tell jokes or anecdotes, and the most charming thing I can say to another person is “I like your [article of clothing].” I don’t even use people’s names while talking, though that is a big charm ‘no-no’ because people love to hear their names spoken. Anytime I try it, it feels phony. Why do I have to keep saying a person’s name in a conversation? Are they suddenly going to forget that I am addressing my remarks to them? I may be boring but I think a person that I am in a conversation with wouldn’t forget such a thing.

I can’t make people laugh. I am less than handsome. I don’t have any interesting personal traits that help overcome my lack of comeliness. What I have is a good heart, soft shoulder, and good intellect. My everyday interests also force me away from normal society. I like movies, but not enough to be a walking Internet Movie Data Base of information. I like music, barely. I don’t enjoy most concerts because I hate standing for hours in the midst of people. I play video games but I rarely finish them and I don’t obsess over my computer system, spending tons of money in order to be able to play the newest games. I can discuss politics and philosophy, but usually my interests in those topics are on a level most people don’t think about. I often believe I am a renaissance man when it comes to knowledge – knowing a lot about many different things. Yet, it is all so esoteric that it doesn’t matter to most people. I can’t tell you who won last nights sporting match-up, who will be in the playoffs, who will be the most valuable player, or any of the stuff that normal people care about.

All this means is my conversation skills are just as bad as my physical attractiveness. I’m more comfortable in the world of ideas when most people just want to talk about what has happened in their day. I rarely talk about what happens in my day because, well, I hate my days. Yes, I do realize that could be why I am a bad conversationalist – I don’t have enough passion about anything to talk about it. Sadly, the things I do have a passion about, I feel most people just don’t care. Honestly, take this piece of writing, does anyone really care that I am ugly? Will this spur others to examine the aesthetics of humanity? Doubtful. Yet, I have a passion about my overall attractiveness.

Maybe a tattoo would spruce up my outer beauty? Shave the beard or keep it? What if I wore contact lenses that turned my eyes blue? How white should I make my teeth? Should I tan? What if I did a spray on tan instead of the harmful UV light tanning? How much change should I go through in order to become attractive? Does God really make unattractive people? We look at many different trees and note which ones we think are beautiful and which ones we don’t but all of them are miracles. All of them are something beyond our scope of accomplishing. Am I not as worthy as all the trees in the world to be considered a miracle? And aren’t miracles by the nature of being a miracle beautiful?

Who am I kidding? Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and society shares the same sets of eyes. I am unattractive. I can accept that. I shall serve as a contrast. I may not be attractive but people will be known as being attractive in comparison to me. Perhaps that is the miracle that was planned. How can we be sure if someone is truly attractive unless we can compare him to someone who isn’t attractive? Light and dark, wet and dry, we are known by our opposition.